


The World Unfeeling

by Megahashi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, Implied Widowmaker | Amelie Lacroix/Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Lesbian Tracer, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Self-Medication, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix Redemption, shit's gonna get real
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megahashi/pseuds/Megahashi
Summary: After being captured by Overwatch, the physical effects of Talon's experiements on Widowmaker have been reversed. But her wounds run much deeper. With the help of an annoying Brit, she will have to head down the road to recovery. Whether or not she will complete the journey has yet to be seen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in Overwatch hell for a few months now and have decided to attempt to contribute to the fandom. And I'd be damned if I didn't start off with these two. Their dynamic is so complicated and emotional, I couldn't resist. I Am Trash.

It started deep within her chest, somehow foreign, yet familiar, and altogether not unpleasant.

At first it was only a small, steady tremor that tickled the inside of her ribs. But as her anesthetized mind slowly returned to the conscious world, the strange sensation began to spread. It worked its way along the avenues of her veins, increasing in intensity with each beat of her heart. Only when the feeling finally touched the tips of her fingers was she able to identify it: warmth.

And with that realization, her eyes shot open.

She was not supposed to feel warm.

She was not supposed to _feel_.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

She was not where she should be.

_Where should she be?_

She tried to focus her thoughts enough to remember where she had been last. It only caused her head to spin. The harder she struggled, the further and further away any shred of recollection seemed.

The startled woman searched for answers in her surroundings.

The room was a sterile white. The walls were white, the blinds drawn across the window were white, and the bed sheets underneath her were such a brilliant white that they hurt her eyes.

_Bed sheets. On a hospital bed. Was she in a hospital?_

_Why would she be in a hospital?_

That’s when the panic began to set in.

The warmth that just moments ago was so pleasant and so comforting suddenly intensified into a blistering burn. It felt like her arteries were filled with lava. Her skin was on fire.

She clawed at her own flesh, digging her nails in until she drew blood.

 _She had to get it out, she had to relieve the pressure_.

She was not in a hospital, she was in hell.

And all she could do was scream.

Fire filled her lungs with each guttural shriek that she let loose.

Soon, all that existed was the burning and her voice.

Through the screaming and the pain, she vaguely felt the prick of a needle as it entered her neck and with it came the relief that she craved. Ice returned to her veins, spreading out from the injection point. The cool feeling circulated through her body; her legs, her arms, and her head started to feel heavy.

She could feel herself slipping away into unconsciousness once more.

It was somehow foreign, yet familiar, and altogether not unpleasant.

 _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“There you are. Lena, I know that you’re upset but you can’t just run off like that.”

Through the fringes of her unkempt hair, which thanks to her tears was stuck flat over her eyes, she looked up into the almost angelic face of Dr. Angela Zeigler. What she found there was pure, unadulterated empathy.

 Unfortunately, the doctor’s kind expression only elicited another round of sobs. With a sigh, Angela moved to the side of the blubbering brunette, leaned her back against the wall, and let herself slide down it until she too was sitting on the cold linoleum floor.

She would give the small Brit as much time as she needed to process what had just happened.

And that’s exactly what she did.

Lena mulled over the events between her choked cries the way a child might pick through a plate of vegetables. She moved them around her mind knowing that she was going to have to deal with the thoughts eventually, all the while resisting the inevitable with an immature stubbornness.

Only when her chest finally stopped heaving, when the tears that filled her eyes dried up, and when her voice was hoarse with exhaustion did she dare to think about what had happened in the other room.

She didn’t know what she should have expected.

At best, she had hoped the woman would wake up with the caring face of a friend that she hadn’t seen in years.

_Amelie’s face. Amelie’s smile._

At worst, she expected a torrent of curses and threats spoken in the woman’s native tongue. Maybe even some taunting aimed at hitting Tracer where it hurt.

She had dealt with Widowmaker’s venom in the past. She learned how to ignore the vile descriptions of her husband’s final moments. She toughed through the claims that she never loved Gerard or Lena. She could have dealt with almost anything the assassin could have thrown at her. But what she witnessed split her heart in two.

Against Angela’s advice, Lena had insisted on being there when Amelie or Widowmaker or whatever the hell she wanted to call herself woke up. The surgery had gone well and the brilliant doctor had been able to reverse nearly all of the physical results of Talon’s experiments.

They had treated their own agent like a lab rat. The tattoos that lined her back and arm hid the scars of an untold number of surgeries. It was like they had hollowed Amelie out and pumped Widowmaker into the shell she left behind.

But with the help of the nanotechnology of her own invention and skilled expertise, Angela was able to get the Widowmaker’s heart beating at a normal rate as well as remove the device that was blocking the receptors in her brain from transmitting any sort of emotional responses.

However, there was no way to assess the amount of brainwashing and psychological trauma that Talon had done to her. Only time would tell.

Lena recalled pacing anxiously around the room, waiting for the unconscious woman to show any signs of waking up.

She had always been a fidgeter.

When she first got the chronal accelerator which allowed her move around at the speed of light, what little patience she previously possessed had completely evaporated. Amelie had helped her through that time. She was the only person who was able to soothe her restless mind.

_She was there for you. You need to be there for her._

And so Lena was. She was there when Widowmaker’s skin began to fade from a purple to a natural skin tone. The shade was still very pale, but at least it was human looking. She was there when her old friend’s fingers started to twitch and her eyelids appeared to flutter. The movements were so slight that she barely noticed them at first, but as the sleeping woman began to stir Lena’s heart quickened its pace in anticipation. And finally, she was there when a blood curdling scream tore through the silence as Amelie manically raked her nails deep into her own arm.

The feral sound still echoed in her mind.

Fresh tears rolled down her freckled face.

Not a moment after Angela jabbed the needle into Amelie’s neck, she fell back into her death like slumber. Lena had to force herself not to look away.

_You have to be strong goddammit. You have to be strong for her!_

But she couldn’t.

Before she could even process what was happening, the world turned blue and spun around her. The whole room rushed from her vision and Amelie’s image quickly faded away. The next thing Lena knew, she was sitting on the cold floor with wet cheeks and a broken heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who is going to go cry themselves to sleep? That's right it's Lena and me. Leave a comment if you'd like to join us.


End file.
